Page 63 of Mistletoe Face Off

Without waiting for his reply, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for another performance as I paste on my best indignant expression. “I can't believe you're against Elf on the Shelf,” I say loudly, making sure my voice carries. “You’re Santa, aren't you? Isn't this your brainchild? And besides, it's a beloved tradition in my household. My daughter loves Elf on the Shelf.”

Harry rolls his eyes dramatically, playing his part to perfection. “Come on, Ms. Coleman, don't you think that whole idea a bit manipulative? You're using a toy to spy on your kid.”

“Spying foryou,” I retort as I stand my ground, hands on my hips. “And besides, it's not really spying. It's about creating Christmas magic. My daughter is only eight, for goodness’ sake!”

I'm glad Macy's not here to witness this one.

A camera flashes nearby. Good. They're capturing this, which means we can get it over and done with and I can get out of here, away from Harry and my feelings for him, which are more tangled than a ball of yarn right now.

“Eight is old enough for your daughter to behave without an elf having to watch her every move.”

“It's not about behavior control,” I insist. "Elfie brings Christmas joy to our home,” I say, using the name Macy gave our elf. No points for guessing where she got the idea. “My daughter loves finding her in a new spot each morning."

"Elfie?" Harry repeats, his eyes bright. “You actually named the toy?”

“Of course we did. Elfie is part of the family.”

For a split second, I see Harrison's expression soften, and I wonder if he's thinking about Macy. As his gaze locks with mine once more, the genuine care in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat.

A guilt-ridden and confused beat.

“Christmas traditions are important. You should know all about that, considering you're none other than Santa Claus himself,” I say.

Harry opens his mouth to retort, but then seems to think better of it. Instead, he sighs heavily. Is he playing up his exasperation for our audience, or can he detect a change in me tonight?

“Fine. Keep your elf, Ms. Coleman, although it seems like Christmas zealotry to me. I should know, I'm Santa Claus, as you so helpfully pointed out.”

“My Christmas zealotry is what makes the holidays magical, I'll have you know."

We glare at each other for a moment, and I’m certain he’s noticed a difference in me. I’m not delivering my lines the way I usually do, with a tinge of humor and fun, and my tone is completely flat.

But I’m not ready to talk to him about what I’ve learned today, not until I’ve somehow reconciled the man I know with his past. If that’s even possible.

“This discussion isn't over,” I declare, throwing my hands in the air as though I am completely exasperated by his position on the Elf on the Shelf. It feels good to channel my feelings into this inane argument.

“I'm pretty sure it isn't,” Harry replies as he crosses his arms over his chest. “In fact, I would go so far as to say that this has only just begun.”

I shoot him a furious look that I hope is caught on camera before I let out a sardonic laugh and turn and walk away. I need to get home to Macy—and to try to work out what I’m going to do with this new information on Harry I never asked for.

Chapter Fifteen

Harrison

I watch Holly leave, an unpleasant feeling clawing at my belly. Usually when we argue like this, there's a sense of camaraderie between us, like we're in this together, putting on a show. Tonight felt different, and I can't quite put my finger on why.

Sure, our argument was over something completely minor and Christmas related, and I think we pulled it off wellenough for the audience. But Holly lacked her usual spark, and considering the last time I saw her we went on that date and shared some incredible kissing, I would have expected to feel more… I don’t know, closeness with her? Yeah, that’s the word. Closeness.

Maybe something's happened? My belly twists at the thought that Macy could be hurt in some way or let down by her idiot of a father again. Or maybe Holly is just snowed under with work, and her mind elsewhere.

Whatever it is, I push it to the back of my head as I spend the rest of the event playing the role of Santa for the fans, talking to kids, and skating with families.

Finally, after I've discarded the Santa suit, I've worked myself up enough to need to know if there’s something going on, so I jump in my car and head over to Holly’s apartment.

It's not too late when I press the number of her apartment on the building intercom. It's only just after 9:00PM, so I hope she's still up.

“Hello?” comes her voice over the crackly line.

“It's me, Harry.”

---